It’s a lovely dreary rainy day here in Wonderland, a steady dripping grey blur mottling the surface of the lake like heavily printed dotted swiss. Murph T. Dog is thrilled, flopped in the dining room staring forlornly across the kitchen at the wet deck, ears drooping. Murph knows. Sometimes life just sucks. Sometimes you get a bath. Sometimes you manage to get out and eat the neighbor’s garbage. You just never know from one minute to the next how things are going to turn, he thinks, looking at me with sad dog eyes, slightly accusingly. It’s raining in his bathroom. He sighs and closes his eyes, He’ll sleep away this mucky day.
Chunker, in whose bathroom it is not raining, apparently found the change in air pressure invigorating, smacking poor Mo soundly as he walked innocently past, then helping clean out closets.
She quickly decided to bag that idea and instead hauled her babies around the house mewling sorrowfully for all the kittens she will never have.
If that’s all the better care she can give her babies we made a good decision.
I was antsy, about as agitated and stir-crazy as Munker. I needed to get out of the house. I have no babies to worry about any more and I was free to head out for a run. My Garmin finally located the mother ship, searching a bit harder than usual with the clouds moving in but I’d been checking and I knew the rain wasn’t going to hit until about noon. It being Memphis and all you can pretty much bet whatever the weather forecasters say is going to be spot on.
I am currently without a Piece of Paper to Live By from my coach. I’ll have it soon enough and for now I shall enjoy not knowing what track work lurks next week. Without the POPTLB I was free to slog about wherever I desired at whatever pace I decided. Sweet Freedom, a purposeless run!
A man was released from prison. He’d paid his dues to society and was free to go. He wandered down the street, dazed with joy, gazing freely about.
“I can go over there and get a milkshake”, he thought, “or I can go sit in the coffee shop and read the paper”
Delirious with joy he skipped down the street singing, “I’m FREE! I’m FREE!!!”
A little boy stood at the corner, watching. As the man skipped past the little boy said, “Tho what, Misther? I’m FOUR.”
I jogged to a road I haven’t run on much but will again soon, large houses on large lots, a curving winding hilly road with little traffic, like being out in the country. I ran down the center of the road looking at trees and houses, flowers blooming, someone trimming hedges. I ran across the road, back and forth, back and forth, just because I could – I’m FREE – in slow easy S’s from curb to curb. I can go over here. I can go over there. I’m FREE! Nothing hurt this morning, the hand-sized Stanky Creek black and purple bruise healing well and the heaviness having moved out of my legs.
Free to run, free from a plan, free from time, I ran. It started to mist and I ran. It misted heavily. I looked down at the dampening road watching my shoes pass beneath me, and I ran. Two miles from home a steady rain started, a solid rain, no huge downpour, just steady. I ran, soft drops of water dripping off my hat, off my nose, running down my legs into my squishing shoes until I noticed at the edge of some trees the twin fawns I’ve been seeing around. I stopped, standing in the rain, looking at the deer as they chewed while gradually moving into the trees and then I ran again through the rain, down the hill, around the turn toward home, looking up and down and all around at the wet world, alive, breathing deeply, running in the rain.